


eternity with you

by oopsiedoops



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Demisexual Georgenotfound, Eventual Smut, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Pansexual Dream, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Sexual Inexperience, no beta we die like george to a zombie pigman, not that slow, once again dream thinks george is very pretty, only a couple of chapters but its been going on for like a year lol, prison guard george, slowish burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:28:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29638119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oopsiedoops/pseuds/oopsiedoops
Summary: But now, here George stood. Facing Dream head on in a prison cell, not having one clue what the other was thinking, not having one clue what to expect.And Dream thought the same.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. who do you miss the most, dream?

**Author's Note:**

> hi! so,,,a bit of explanation is needed. i first began writing this in january, and obviously the prison arc has become a lot more developed since then, especially with last night's stream (no spoilers! but go watch it jesus it was intense). also, i am completely and utterly aware that dream's character on the smp is emotionally manipulative and especially was to tommy in exile. in no way am i trying to romanticise this, and this fic wasn't specifically meant to be a dream apologist fic, it just turned out that way. also, if you've read the tags you'll know george is demisexual. i myself am not but if anyone reading is and i've somehow been insensitive/invalidating towards you please, please leave a comment and let me know so i can fix it? i just thought it might be a cool idea, and a way to include karl in the story too and i never meant any harm towards the ace community and demisexuals in general.
> 
> thank you, and please leave a comment if you enjoy the fic? its the way i get validation :) love ya <3

Staring at the obsidian walls surrounding him, Dream sighed. Sam had reminded him that Tommy was supposed to visit him that evening. Which either meant Dream could apologise and they could put all of this behind them, or Tommy would act like a complete and utter dick staring at Dream in a prison cell.

He was willing to bet everything that it was the latter.

But he'd already lost everything.

Isolation. Complete isolation. Surrounded by the strongest obtainable material, a wall of lava preventing his escape. The was no noise to be heard, only the bubbling of the sizzling orange curtain and slow ticking of the clock on his wall. Mocking him, every tick leading to nothing but what seemed like an eternity in the cell.

Glancing at the clock, Dream pushed his dirty, literally dirty now- he hadn't been able to shower- he wasn't sure there was one, blond hair away from his eyes and huffed out another sigh. An hour until Tommy was due to visit.

He gulped and hesitantly took his mask off, the white smile being his only reminder of what used to be. At least Tommy had been humane enough to let him keep that. But, with the pouring lava only a few steps away, his face and neck was getting sweaty and the material of his mask was sticking unpleasantly to his forehead. He didn't trust that Sam hadn't set up cameras to watch his every move, but he didn't care anymore. Dream had lost everything, what was losing his privacy? He'd lost his home, his power, his friends and family, two of his lives, all his tools and weapons, his dignity, George.

George

Dream hadn't dared to think of him, ever since he'd been cornered by nearly everyone on the world, and he was just staring at the purple swirling abyss of the portal, hoping desperately to see a flash of blue, a pair of white goggles, someone wielding a sword, ready to fight.

But he never came.

So now, it truly pained Dream to think of him, knowing he may never see his best friend again, knowing he'd never see him shove those white goggles up onto his forehead as he avidly described a new build idea, never hear him laugh at something utterly stupid, never be able to call him "Gogy" again.

The day before, when Dream was absolutely sure he had everything under control, that he'd take over Tommy, murder Tubbo, and the world would be his again, his plan was foiled. He'd arrogantly encouraged Tommy and Tubbo to say their goodbyes, giving them a time limit to the end of a years long friendship.

When he'd seen Punz step through the portal, in full netherite armour, trident in hand.

And how silly Dream had been to think "Ha, I can take him, easily" only to then see Sam come through. And Sapnap. Bad, Niki, Quackity, Jack, Ponk, Ranboo and countless others enter after them. Expressions steely, obviously seething with unkempt rage behind their enchanted helmets.

No George.

Dream didn't know what to make of that. Did George not come because he was on Dream's side? Or maybe he didn't because he couldn't even stand to be in the same room as him. Or maybe he'd been trapped by someone, desperate to go and help Dream, defend him, take back what was rightfully his. Or maybe he didn't care anymore.

A particularly large bubble popping from the lava startled Dream out of his thoughts. He stood up, sighing, brushing clinging pieces of jagged obsidian from his clothes. Could you even call them clothes anymore? His trousers were torn, muddy, rough to the touch. The green hoodie not in a better state, blood splattering it from the times he'd impulsively hit Tubbo to scare Tommy.

In fact, as Sam had been escorting Dream to the prison he was locked in, he prayed that the evidence of what he'd threatened was lying on his armour. Which was now being worn by the very boy he needed to kill.

Dream had nothing.

Not even George.

And he's always had George.

What felt like a million years ago, Dream had run away from his village.

When he was still Clay.

Taking nothing but an iron sword and a mask to protect his identity, he'd escaped. The Father Clay knew when he was younger was nowhere to be found. He knew he couldn't make it, not with him there. His younger sister had clung to his arm begging and begging "Please, Clay! Please! Don't go!" Tears were running down both of their faces as he'd given her a tight hug goodbye. He couldn't bear to look at his Mother in the eyes.

He'd run and run and run. To far away villages, become knowledgeable on portals and different dimensions. And with the help of a local from a village he'd stopped at, was able to make two portals. One to get him to the nether, which was practically hell. And one to get him out, what must have been 5,000,000 miles away.

He'd walked out of the portal, confidently. Towering spruce trees surrounded him, the calm and tranquillity gifting him with the overwhelming sense of relief. He'd escaped.

Clay had come to terms with the fact he was going to be alone in his new world.

Until one faithful day when he'd just come back from mining, sweaty and exhausted, only in half broken iron armour before his quest for netherite, the portal on the other side of the river spat and whirled ominously.

There was only one reason portals ever do that.

Clay froze.

Someone had come to find him.

His tired body immediately got hit by a rush of adrenaline as he gripped his sword with clammy hands.

He slid behind a tree, peering over when he saw the portal lurch and stretch, spitting someone out.

A man stumbled out, who can't have been older than Clay himself, tripping over his feet and chucking his sword onto the ground in his haste to get out of the portal.

He was dressed in what looked like muddy jeans and a blue shirt, brown fluffy hair adorned with a red dyed leather cap.

He was sprawled on the floor on his back, chest heaving, obviously having run a long while.

He didn't seem to be of any immediate danger to Clay, though he couldn't be so sure.

He scrunched up his nose and pulled his mask down a bit more. Just because he didn't recognise this guy didn't mean this guy wouldn't recognise him.

He slyly stepped over, trying to be quiet even though he could hear his heart going a mile a minute.

Clay peered down at the man, who had an arm over his face and was panting heavily.

Stepping forward to get a closer look, a sharp snap was heard. Fuck. He'd stepped on a stick or something.

The man immediately threw his arm off of his face, startled. He stared up at Clay worriedly. "Is this a dream?" he said, eyes wild with fear "am I in heaven?"

Clay's brow furrowed and he knelt down next to the man.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked, tilting his head to the side, grip loosening on his sword.

The man sat up suddenly, almost banging heads with Clay.

"No" He said, not so subtly glancing around for his sword. He looked back at Clay "Am I meant to? Is this real? Are you a dream?" The man's gaze travelled up Clay's head to the mask he wore, eyes then squinting in confusion, a puzzled look gracing his face.

Clay knew now that this man would be of no harm. Nobody that adorable could mean anything bad to him.

He thought back to the man's question. "Are you a dream?"

Clay grinned. "I can be"

And the name stuck.

Dream later learned that the man's name was George and he'd had to flee his village due to a pillager attack. He was two years older than Dream himself but quite a bit shorter- an aspect Dream never failed to make fun of him for.

Together, they built and built up the world. News travelled of the mysterious Dream and George, and their fast growing empire. More travellers started to join them. First, one named Nick, but preferred to go by Sapnap, his favourite animal spelled backwards to which George pointed out "then shouldn't it be 'Sadnap'?". Every time he joked about it, the other boy became more 'pissedoffnap' than Sadnap. Then, in came more and more people, a Summer being full of new citizens, building houses and building relationships.

In June, a boy named Tommy joined. He was aggressive, yet was social with everyone on the server, even Dream himself.

Then came Wilbur. Wilbur Soot, the man who started the nation of L'Manburg. Tommy and Techno's older brothers Phil's son, Fundy's Dad, new friend to Toby or Tubbo; he had connections all over the server, with people who you'd think would be willing to sacrifice anything to help him.

Wilbur made a nation. The nation of L'Manburg and to Dream, the creation meant nothing but turmoil and pain.

Wilbur and Tommy turned everyone against Dream. Oh, and don't even get him started on that Schlatt guy. Sure, Dream was technically on his side but that didn't mean for one minute he was on his side.

Schlatt died, Wilbur was killed, Tubbo became president and L'Manburg was thrown into disarray.

Dream saw his chance when Tommy burned down George's house.

"I order you to exile Tommy" Tubbo had said with a shaky voice, pointing a quivering finger at his best friend, practically his brother.

Tommy's face had broken, his usually aggressive, humourous persona shattered to eyes full of despair, a voice full of sadness.

"No..Tubbo"

But Dream did as he was ordered.

When Tommy was in exile, Dream wasn't proud of what he did. Constantly taunting him with a fake promise of a visit for Christmas, flaunting his friends in front of Tommy, forcing the boy to burn everything he owned just to laugh at him.

Then Technoblade came.

Dream and Techno were on each others side. They were. But that seemed to change when Tommy teamed with him. Dream was absolutely sure Tommy must be hiding at Techno's house, but the pig made weak excuses for him, and Dream had no choice but to go.

Until Techno realised, he'd always been used as a weapon. And now, Tommy was planning to use him as a weapon against Dream. So he had no other choice than to team up with Dream once more, recruiting Phil on the way.

They blew up the newly constructed L'Manburg, getting rid of people's homes, belongings, pets, lives. Until Dream was numb.

He vividly remembered one painful night, drunk out of his arse, crying to George who was trying his best to calm him down. Dream was running in the rain, George unable to keep up with him, tripping over jagged bedrock, manically screaming "This place was real, but now it's gone!" His eyes blazed wildly, coming to rest on George "Techno and Dream planted a bomb!"

He gripped George's hands.

"It's a very big and definitely blown up L'Manburg" He sang, voice cracking with the effort to keep it together. He wouldn't feel guilty, he wouldn't. He wouldn't. He especially wouldn't for making a mockery of the nation's anthem, made by a man who now only appeared as a spirit, trying desperately to keep his still alive companions above the void.

George looked up at him pitifully.  
Wordlessly, the brunette pulled him into a hug, ruthless rain smacking down on them without end.

"Bye, L'Manburg" Dream whispered, sniffling into the top of George's head. "Bye L'Manburg" George mumbled back, gripping Dream's face in his hands.   
"Bye L'Manburg" Dream had spoken, resting his forehead against George's.

"Bye, L'Manburg" They'd whispered together for a final time, saying goodbye to a nation that they'd sought to destroy, sure one that had been the cause of all their problems but had also been a home and loving community to countless others.

Dream now, sat on the cold floor or his cell didn't even want to think about what had come next.

Tommy and Tubbo staring at death's door, the grim reaper awaiting them, as Dream swung "nightmare" in their direction. Tommy thinking he had the discs, only to be in possession of a fake.

Dream nearly killing Tubbo in cold blood, not allowing him to have a final goodbye to his brother.

Dream confidently leading them down through the mountain, to where he had everything he'd heartlessly yet meticulously collected, and what he'd planned to collect.

Where he'd ordered Tommy and Tubbo to say their last goodbyes.

And Dream couldn't even bear to think of the rest because why?

Why hadn't George come?

Dream looked at the clock on his wall. Tommy would definitely be in the prison by now, Sam leading him through the detailed and treacherous trials you needed to go through to get to the solitary confinement cell Dream was locked in.

He faintly heard a lever being pulled, and the lava exponentially slowly started to shake and drop. He knew, that on the other side of the burning lake was the very person he wanted to see most in the world, and least.

Tommy Innit.

Tommy was going on about something, something mundane and how the hell could he be talking about that when Dream was sentenced to life in prison?

Dream waited miserably, pulling his mask back on quick as the lava fully dropped from in front of his cell, allowing Tommy a view into the dingy room.

Tommy was taken across on a sort of elevator, still spewing out stupid words, when he came to a full stop in front of Dream.

He stepped into his cell. The small netherite wall that had truly been blocking Dream in was pushed down.

They were in the same room once more. It pained Dream to think that the least time they'd faced each other like this was when Dream was still convinced he'd win, that he'd gain everything he wanted, and not lose everything.

"Hello" he said, voice croaky, looking up at Tommy.

"Hey Dream" came the reply.

Tommy treated him slightly more respectfully than Dream had expected, only killing him for fun twice over and laughing when he dropped into the water.

Tommy span the clock around in it's frame with glee, and Dream watched in delight, entranced by a new game.

Later, the boy looked in Dream's chest and found it nearly full of book and quills, all empty. He guessed it was Sam's last shred of humanity, giving Dream something to do.

Tommy, being the child he is, had assigned Dream homework of all things, making him write pages and pages of words on various topics, including "How to get girls" and fuck him if Dream knew that, his only experience with girls had been back at his village, and they'd been quick fumbles or kisses in parks when nobody had been looking. He hadn't had enough time for love, recently. He'd been too busy with his new world, then George, then everyone new joining, and the first war and George, and Tubbo's presidency, Tommy's exile and George and the final disk war. And George and wondering why, why didn't he come to help?

Then, Tommy began to talk. He shouted at Dream, for everything he did, what he threatened to do. Until Dream did something that a few weeks ago, he'd thought he'd never do.

He apologised.

"I'm sorry, Tommy" He said, voice defeated and full of guilt and regret. "For everything"

It was the most the man could muster, the reality of spending so long in solitary confinement taking a toll on him.

But Tommy didn't accept.

No, instead he'd taunted Dream more, punching him over and over, talking and talking to him. Finally landing on something that struck Dreams heart like a trident.

"But who do you miss the most, Dream?" He'd questioned, eyes ablaze with vengeful mischief. "Maybe Sapnap....or maybe, oh God, Dream you're not going to say Gogy are you?"

Dream snapped.

"Get out" he gritted, clenching his fists at his side to stop himself from decking the boy in front of him. "Get out, now, leave, Guard?" He'd called, anger bubbling inside him like a volcano.

Tommy didn't argue.

He probably wanted to get away from Dream, anyway.

"I'll be back on Sunday, Dream!" He'd called, obviously ecstatic about being able to anger Dream with no repercussions indefinitely.

And Tommy left, taking with him his mindless chatter, and the only presence Dream would probably see for however long he was in the cell for.

He slumped against the chest, voice croaky and tired for having spoken for so long. The only way to get back to his bed was to die, and he didn't want to have to jump in the lava just to hit the pillow.

His brain seemed too pent up to sleep, and it decided to make him think about what would make him the most upset. George. Because why wasn't he there. He screwed up his eyes, pummelling them with his fists to prevent tears from leaking down his cheeks. He refused to cry. Refused.

Instead, he chose to wonder what George was doing that second. Was he fast asleep, in bed? Was he talking to Sapnap, was he laughing? Or was he talking about Dream? Was he thinking about him? Dream couldn't stop thinking about George. About everything, just his presence, his aura, the way the room immediately lit up for Dream when the British boy walked in.

Dream couldn't help himself from thinking about George's face, either. For lack of a better word, Dream found George pretty. Very, very pretty. Fluffy brown hair waving over a pale forehead, large, pooling brown eyes, so dark they were almost black, that always seemed to be able to stare right through Dream, and grin up at him with glee. A long nose, slightly pointed, pale cheeks with delicately sharp cheekbones, his lips. His lips. Now, Dream wasn't saying he had an obsession. He just liked them.

They were the perfect colour, a dusty rose, lighter when it was cold, darker if George had been talking for a while. He thought they were gorgeous when they opened to speak, or in a laugh, or if they'd stretched into a grin or small smile after Dream had said something to embarrass him. Dream had always thought that there could be one way they could be more gorgeous. He adored the colour, but what if the colour was darker? What if say George had been biting his lip, at something that happened or something he'd done? Or what if someone else had been biting them? Like Dream. What if they were a bright, shining red, noticeably wet with saliva, kiss-bitten and beautiful, open in a silent groan of pleasure?

No, Dream wasn't obsessed.

He just liked them.

Dream hadn't labelled his sexuality but, spoiler alert, he isn't straight. He'd realised that, after he'd met George. He hadn't confronted his full feeling about the boy but barely knowing the extent of them was enough, enough to know when that would scare George away.

He slumped back further against the chest, trying desperately to rid his mind of the images of George. A hard on was not what he needed right now. The chest creaked behind him dangerously, and he moved forward, aching limbs collapsing in front of him.

Dream fell asleep there, curled in on himself, mask slipping off, arms acting as a cushion, the obsidian as a mattress and the roof of the cell as a towering blanket. He was thankful enough to have a dreamless sleep, no pun intended, and closed his eyes to very faint chatter, from what he assumed was Tommy and Sam, and the slow fizzing pop of the lava as it covered over his escape once more.

He woke up, to the talking being louder and sat up with a start. Dream refused to believe it was already Sunday and, checking his clock on the wall, saw it could only be a few hours after he'd fallen asleep, so around midnight.

Who would be coming to visit him at midnight?

Dream also refused to be optimistic, no it wouldn't be someone he actively wanted to talk to, it would be Tommy, or Quackity maybe. Someone there to mock him. Mercifully, it could be Tubbo but he didn't want to take his chances. He knew Tubbo wouldn't mock or make fun of him as much as the others, but Dream didn't know if he could face him without breaking down, last having seen that terrified child when Dream had been about to murder him. He didn't want to think about it.

Dream quickly walked into the lava, trying his best to ignore the short, stinging pain he'd become so used to, ending up above the main cell crouching in his bed, wearing the stupid orange cloth clothes the prison provided. He'd get his own back when Sam bothered to give them to him. The man had known Tommy would no doubt have killed Dream multiple times during his visit, so allowed Dreams clothes to stay with him. Now, when he'd tried to full some "funny stuff" as Sam called it, he'd have to bear the indecency of wearing bright orange as a prisoner, not his own clothing as an individual.

Dream was almost squatting on the bed, he always respawned crouching when he was nervous, ever since he even started dying often. But in this world, if you died from a large war, where you were a main counterpart, and you died 3 times, you would simply never come back. Dream had only made the world work like that when he figured he'd be alone, and nobody other then mobs would even be there to kill him.

Oh how wrong he was.

You'd never come back unless as a spirit, and Ghostbur had shown the citizens how lonely being a ghost can truly be, relying on a dyed blue sheep for comfort as he watched his friends and family move on.

Dream could hear the faint, sad chuckling coming from the lava lake down below. But Tommy didn't laugh like that.

The faint clicking of the pistons started up, and up above him from what seemed like miles and miles away, he could hear footsteps heading towards the guard's quarters.

Whoever Sam had allowed to visit once more today must have been trustworthy, and must have bribed Sam because the man had stated that the minimum amount of visits should be allowed. But funnily enough, the 6'7" man could be bribed with diamonds or something equally as shiny.

Dream began to get more nervous, and he swung his legs over the gap in the floor, ready to jump down if he needed to.

The clicking of the blocks stopped, and timid footsteps made their way into his cell.

"Dream?" a small voice said, cracking with anxiety too.

The voice had a British accent.

Immediately, Dream jumped into the pool, landing with a small splash, he looked at the man in front of him who was rubbing his arm and looking sheepish.

"George"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys stared at each other almost in disbelief, Dream's at George actually being here, and George at what had happened to Dream already.

George thought he looked so much like a prisoner. The orange shirt and trousers adding to that effect. It only reminded him of what Dream had done, and what he'd planned to do.

George had always understood Dream, they were best friends after all. All the time he'd spent with him alone, before the rest of their friends had come to stay, are some of the most cherished moments of George's life. The still, the quiet, the calm. Mostly calm. Maybe just no Tommy.

Now, George didn't want to go round blaming a 16 year old on all his life problems but he'd burned his house down so he figured this might be an exception.

George hadn't gone to help Dream, or to help Tommy. He didn't want to intrude, or take sides. Even though everyone and their Mother obviously thought he'd join Dream, and he probably would have, he didn't want to risk seeing the person he loved in such-

Wait, George.

Person you what now?

George had paced in his room after thinking that last thought out loud, God know what was happening in a mountain miles away. "Person you love?? Dream??" He'd whispered, rubbings hand over his face. This had to be the last thing he'd needed. Turmoil, chaos, a war, now falling for his best friend of years.

But it wasn't that much of a surprise.

George had left his village and found Dream soon after- so didn't know much of the world away from the two he'd experienced. And his experiences at his village hadn't particularly been noteworthy. He wasn't a complete virgin, but he blushed red enough when asked about it to pass as one. None of the girls at his village had really done anything for him. Made his heart flutter, or his hands shake, or even make a flare of heat pool in his stomach.

He'd thought something was wrong with him for a while, as his friends back at the village had always shared countless stories of hook ups with girls, but never actually being in a relationship with any of them. George had no desire for that, and he thought he must be broken for not wanting to have sex, not if he didn't know the person. The girl, he meant.

Once, early in the days of the server, George was talking to Karl, one of his new friends. Karl was talking about his sexuality, after George had come to him with his issue and he'd said though he wasn't quite sure yet, Karl just thought of himself as somewhere on the asexual spectrum.

George asked him what that meant, and it clicked. Karl had said the word 'demisexual' and the definition. "Basically, you don't want to bone someone unless you've boned their brain first. Not in a necrophilia way, in a way where you have to have like..an emotional connection to have sex with them" he'd explained in such a Karl way, George hadn't even bothered to hide the look of realisation on his face.

Karl had just grinned.

"Told you you weren't broken"

And George's life continued on. Everything seemed to make a bit more sense now, he was becoming closer with many more people on the server including and especially Dream though he didn't often feel any sort of arousal often at all.

Until one hot June day the next Summer.

Until then, George only knew he'd been marginally attracted to girls, so he didn't think that would change.

But then it happened.

And Dream was definitely not a girl.

It was the first time George had seen Dream shirtless and it was a game-changer. They'd just come back from the nether, and were smelting their hard earned 'ancient debris' in the hopes of making netherite. Inside their small home, the furnaces were causing the windows to warp and swelter, the air quickly becoming foggy with humidity. Outside wasn't much better, as it was hot out there too, but that's where they chose to sit, sweating in the sun.

Thankfully, they had a small river next to where they lived so George happily dipped his feet into the edge, trying his best to cool himself down.

Dream however, had no such patience.

He'd joined George on the rocks for a while, but had soon gotten way too impatient and had stood up, quickly reaching down and tugging his sweaty shirt off from the hem and, not choosing to spare a glance in George's direction, dived into the river, still in his shorts.

George had laughed at him at first, saying "You're gonna regret jumping in in your clothes!" But his laughter was quickly cut off when Dream finally surfaced.

From the glimpse before, George had only seen Dream's back, and only for a second. But this time, Dream was stood facing him, splashing water on his face that dripped down past his neck, over his collarbones, the droplets making their way down down down his chest before melting in to the already soaked fabric of his shorts.

All that time running and mining and fighting had done Dream's body a world of good. His arms were strong and tan, delicate freckles dotting over his shoulders. His chest was pretty solid too, broad as well, broader than George's by a mile. His stomach looked firm, and was rippled with the abs sitting above it, the water slowly melting on the burning skin.

To George's immense luck, Dream hadn't yet noticed him staring, and was still tousling his hair to get it out of his eyes. George took the opportunity to admire him some more, watching water continue to drip over his shoulders, and down his chest, before quickly splashing water on his face too, and turning towards a small breeze trying to cool the burning in his cheeks. Adjusting how he was sat slightly, he moved his hands that were resting idly on the scorching stone up to his knees, which he brought closer to his chest.

Let's hope Dream didn't notice his predicament.

But Dream had only cocked an eyebrow in his direction before smirking evilly and swimming under again, towards George. He gripped the shorter boy's ankles under the water and yanked, bringing him tumbling into the river with a splash and a screech of "Dream!!".   
George coughed and spluttered, sat soaking wet in the river glaring at Dream with a pout on his lips.

"Well." He started, folding his arms. "That was quite rude"

And Dream would be lying if he said he hadn't melted slightly at that adorable sight.

Unfortunately for George, after that particular day, he began to notice everything attractive about Dream that he would've noticed before come to the light.

The way he leaned against trees, one leg over the other, arms crossed, with a confrontational, somewhat flirty look on his face.

How he was able to swiftly kill zombies, skeletons, creepers, spiders; any monster that attacked them with a simple swing of whatever sword he happened to be holding.

When they were training, how he'd effortlessly win every small battle they did, but never hurt George. The playful way he'd call "C'mere, George!! C'mere!" before letting him slip through his fingers once more.

And even when they'd just be gathering resources; whether it be chopping down trees, or mining, he always looked so strong and capable, his hands holding the axe or pickaxe with a careless ferocity that got the job done quickly.

But George loved the smaller parts of Dream too. His laugh, that now famous wheeze that came before the incessant happiness of his laughter. George had fondly called him a tea kettle, ignoring the way Dream had nudged his shoulder and playfully rolled his eyes at him had made something akin to butterflies swarm in his stomach.

He loved the way the boy would get so excited over the smallest things. Maybe finding a fox, or a wolf or even an ocelot to try and tame, or even a parrot, and make it their own.

It wasn't all lust, what George was feeling. It wasn't all when he felt heat coil in his stomach after seeing Dream shirtless, when he watched him polish or sharpen his tools, strong hands wrapping around the handles with ease, veins popping as he lifted it. It wasn't George imagining those same hands wrapped around something else entirely.

It was also Dream knowing George inside and out, always knowing what the other was thinking, always being able to read his mind. It was Dream being so immensely caring towards George, towards all his friends that of fucking course, George was going to fall for him because, frankly, it would be more surprising if he didn't.

But now, here George stood. Facing Dream head on in a prison cell, not having one clue what the other was thinking, not having one clue what to expect.

And Dream thought the same.


	2. stay, please?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't know, George, Sam wouldn't be too happy with that" Said Bad as him and George were walking towards the prison from the city. "And I've only just got the job! I don't want to ask for something like this straight away!"
> 
> "Please, Bad?" George almost begged, pulling on his arm to get him to stop. "Please? At least try? I just..I just need to know he's okay all the time; even when I'm usually not there, y'know?"
> 
> Bad nodded sympathetically. "Look, Gogy, I know you miss him but..he...but....yeah, fine" He sighed. "I'll see what I can do"
> 
> George grinned widely "Yes! Thanks so much, Bad! I owe you one!"
> 
> "Yeah" He rolled his eyes, "you really do."

The two faced one another, in silence. The clock was ticking shamelessly on the wall, splitting through the quiet like butter.

Dream was about to be the first to speak.

He cleared his throat.

"So-" He started, before George cut him off with a hug.

The boy's arms were raised and wrapped so tightly around Dream's chest, gripping as if he was scared he'd disappear. His face was buried in his shoulder, hair brushing his neck.

Dream jumped in surprise. George had never really been the one to initiate physic contact between them, unless it was after a battle or a close call with death. He only hesitated for a moment before hugging back, his arms wrapping around the slender boy's waist as he hugged him closer, rubbing his chin against his hair.

"You're okay" A muffled, slightly shaky hysterical voice came from his shoulder. "I didn't know if you would be...I didn't...didn't know what they'd done to you, if you'd even be awake I just..was just so worried I-" A small sniff interrupted his sentence, causing Dream to grip him closer. "I didn't know if I'd even be allowed to see you" He whispered after, slightly ashamedly.

"Why's that?" Dream mumbled back, too caught up in his arms being sulk of George and nose full of his scent to particularly care about the answer.

"Didn't..didn't know if Sam would let me..thought there'd be a rule about not allowing people on your side...who'd want to break you out or help you" he explained, breath catching as he pulled away when Dream moved his shoulders.

"Oh" the taller one started, unable to keep the coldness out of his voice "So you are on my side? That's good to know."

George looked at him, confused. "Of course I am what do you mean I-"

"Then why weren't you there, George?" Dream interrupted, trying his best to stop his voice from wavering with bitterness. "Why didn't you come to help me? You could have. Could've tried to get me out- even SapNap was on their side. I thought I'd at least have you" he spat the last sentence, not bothering to take the disgust away from his words. "But you didn't bother. And okay, maybe I misspoke- and you couldn't have got me out of there but don't you see George?"

The boy was looking up at him, eyes shining.

"Don't you see?" he continued "That even you just being there would've helped. Someone to stand with me, so I wasn't alone against all our friends, George. Did you know what they were planning? Do you know what happened? Well, I'll fucking tell you what happened, Georgie." He said angrily.

Dream almost felt remorse at watching George flinch when he used his nickname in such a harsh voice.

Nevertheless, he continued.

"I'll fucking tell you, I faced the entire city alone, George. And look where it got me. Here. In a shitting prison cell alone again. So don't try to fool me you're on my side if you didn't even bother to turn up and actually show it instead of saying it now. When it's nearly no use" He whispered the last part, his boiling anger having disapated into an ache of heavy sadness.

George took a reluctant step back, and faced Dream, a steely glare waiting at the back of his shining brown eyes. "I couldn't bear to see you, Dream" He began, trying to form every word and emotion he had floating around his head into something conceivable and explainable for Dream to understand. "I couldn't bear it..seeing you like that..I know it would have broken me, hurt me more than you're even hurting me now" the steeliness was beginning to come through. "I didn't know what to do Dream! Everything we'd been through was nearly gone, because of you, you changed, into something I didn't want to associate with. Something that torments people with death, that uses pain as power, something that everyone's scared of. But me." he took a deep breath, and remembered what he needed to say, choosing to avoid Dream's gaze.

"I want you back, Dream. The one I first met all that time ago, that cared, and helped, and laughed, and fought and smiled not with malice but with joy and happiness because fucking hell, we bother deserve that much. You manipulative bastard, everyone on this server had and has something against you, whether it's something you've stolen, someone you've killed, everyone has a reason to hate you! And now you're here. Locked away and powerless. Which is the only reason I'm here to see you-because..because the only way the real Dream will come back, is..is from the power being taken, and the walls being knocked down. And here we are. Here you are. No walls. No power." George forced himself not to grab onto something to steady himself, everything that was coming tumbling out of his mouth making him feel dizzy with the weight of it. "I need you, Dream" he tried not to blush at how that sounded. "You, not the stupid king dictator version of you."

He stepped forward once more, almost toe to toe with him. "Just you"

Dream turned away, stepping back.  
"I'm sorry" he said, truly, truly meaning it. He didn't know what he'd become, how much every tiny thing he was doing was hurting the ones around him who he should be holding so close, so dearly especially in this time of chaos.

"Georgie.." He said, reclaiming the affectionate nickname he felt he'd used in vain earlier. "Georgie..I'm so, so sorry I-...I don't even know what to say."

George nodded, slightly. "It's not me you should be apologising to"

"I've already said sorry to him" Dream said, not even bothering to ask who George was talking about. "To Tommy. Told him I was sorry. He didn't accept it, just decided to make fun of me for being stuck here." He said. After seeing the look on George's face, he quickly followed it with "I know, I deserve it and he's being kinder than I was to him in exile but..but..it still stung, George"

George sighed. "I came to visit you, Dream..to make sure you were okay- that you weren't going insane." He glanced at him with a slight smile "I've only been here for 5 minutes and even I can feel myself losing it. I don't know how you're doing it"

"Neither do I" Dream said glumly. He turned away, spinning the clock in the frame. He tried to brighten up. "It's not all bad, sometimes Sam will say hi to me when he brings me potatoes. And I have my clock, and my books"

"Ha, yeah Tommy told me you have to write some things for him..."How to get girls" was it?" George teased a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

Dream smiled "Yeah, though I don't have much experience with that"

George wasn't sure what to make of that. Did he mean when he was younger? He'd never had a girlfriend? Or maybe he didn't have any experience with anyone entirely...or just with girls.

"I can practically hear you thinking George, what's on your mind?" He asked, sitting cross legged on the floor near the cauldron acting as a sink, tucking his knees away from the hard floor.

George followed him, mostly to delay from answering the question for a few seconds. "Er..I guess I've just never heard you talk about girls before. Or dating. Or anything about love in general"

Oh. Dream hadn't been expecting that. That was something best friends were meant to talk about, wasn't it?

"Yeah..guess not" he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck, mask wobbling precariously on his forehead. Still, nobody in the world knew what he looked like- and they could only see strands of dirty blond hair curling away from a tan face covered by a porcelain white mask.

"Is that weird?" The older asked suddenly, his head jerking up "That we've never..talked about that kind of stuff?"

"Don't know" Dream said, awkwardly meeting George's eyes. He gave him a wry smile. "Is it?"

"Don't know. Maybe"

'What is weirder was trying to have a normal conversation with an accused murderer, even if they are your best friend' George thought.

Even so, George did think it was a bit weird. When his friends at the village had talked about girls, it was sort of..expected? Normal? But there weren't many girls in the world either of them would date. They hadn't spent much time with Puffy or Alyssa, and Niki was dating Wilbur- and hadn't begun seeing anybody else since his death.

Maybe it is weird. That they'd never talked about it. George decided to resign that thought to a later date, and he looked above Dream, the boy leaning against the cauldron just looking...tired. And he must be. Coming straight from a battle of sorts to this? Spending a night in this cell? A visit with Tommy? And now George? He must be exhausted.

There was silence for a minute until;

"My times gonna be over soon, Dream." George said, glancing at the clock to Dream's left. "I'll have to go"

Oh. Dream didn't know what to say to that. His shoulders sank slightly, defeated.

"Okay" He said glumly, not moving to stand up.

"I could ask Sam if he'd let me back tomorrow? I mean there's mean to be a gap between visits but-"

"Please" Dream's voice cracked. "Come back tomorrow, I can't do this alone"

George's heart warmed and broke at the same time. He smiled softly, pushing himself up to his feet, reaching out a hand for Dream to grab.

"I'll be here"

And so he was.

George came back the next day, a couple of hours earlier after Dream had just finished eating.

He frowned when he first entered the cell. "I tried to bring you a pumpkin pie but Sam took it after one of the screenings. I think he thought it must have had like...weapons in it or something"

He met Dreams eyes, seriously.

"The secret weapon is nutmeg"

Dream wheezed out a laugh for the first time in what felt like years.

"Thanks anywa-"

"Prisoner"

Dream jumped.

"Prisoner, you have another visitor, Mr Not found must leave the premises immediately" The tinny voice sounded from outside the cell.

Dream look at George pleadingly.

George thought for a moment, before knocking to tell Sam he was ready to leave, and walking out of the cell.

Dream was left feeling dejected. "I guess he won't always be here" he thought, going to sit down.

But, after a few minutes, George came back in proudly.

"I bribed him" He said, grinning. "He said I could stay as long as I stayed upstairs, and didn't let the visitor know I was here!"

"How in the fuck did you do that?" Dream asked, shocked.

"Diamonds" George shrugged, grinning. "Sam is a bit materialistic sometimes. Now come on, give me a leg up"

Dream got to his feet quickly, and used his remaining strength to lift George up, so he could jump onto the small platform above the cell that Dream's poor excuse for a bed was in.

George tried not to think about Dreams hands around his legs or how easily the man was able to lift him, as he scrabbled up to the floor with a flushed face.

Just in time too, as the lava was slowly dropping away from the front of the cell.

"Oh" Dream said. "It's you"

"Hey, Dream"

Tommy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

George listened closely from above the cell, to Tommy teasing and poking at Dream- trying to get a rise out of him. All of Dream's answers were monotone and dull, bordering on numb. Now, George knew it was all an act; a façade to block out the horrible shit being spewed at him but it was still unnerving to listen to.

After Tommy had left, seemingly annoyed at the lack of books provided by Dream, George was able to come back down and with one look at Dreams face he knew he needed a hug.

Engulfing the taller man in his arms proved to be difficult but George did it anyway, giving him human comfort, pale arms wrapping around orange covered shoulders in what he hoped was a helping hug.

Judging by the arms right around his waist and face burying into the side of his neck and shoulder, it was the right thing to do.

Dream wouldn't believe it though, that George would always come back. He would be mining all day, gathering diamonds and other minerals to bribe Sam into letting him outstay his permitted time; and Dream just wanted to know, already. If George was going to bother keeping up with the routine; or if he'd get tired of it. Get tired of him.

But George was always there. He was there to tell Dream not to lose hope, after Bad had come and told Dream optimistically about what life would be like for him after he started being a a prison guard. George was there to hug him, wipe his tears away, when he'd had to yell at a kid, tell him he'd been evil, because Dream was told it was for the benefit of the city.

He didn't understand.

But George was still there for him.

Hell, he was even there when SapNap visited, sitting across from the tear stained face. Everything SapNap had said had been Dream's worst fear. That they were still friends..but he didn't know if he'd ever be able to forgive Dream for what he'd done.

Which was fair enough, honestly but Dream wasn't really one to own up to feelings that scared him.

And speaking of feelings that scared him, those 'feelings' he'd developed for George seemed to be growing stronger, surrounding his head, permeating it with constant thoughts of George; his laugh, his voice, his face, anything.

It was getting worse.

Especially when Dream knew George would never feel the same way. It had always been an ongoing joke that the two would flirt all the time; joke about getting married, innuendoes, everything. But all Dream knew was George liked girls. On some level. Come to think of it, seeing as they'd never talked about girls at all; he didn't know if he'd ever even had a girlfriend.

"George?" Dream asked, plucking at the bright polyester of his sleeve.

George looked up from where he was doodling what looked to be a picture of Skeppy on a flaming muffin in the back of one of the many books provided. "Yeah?"

"Have you ever had a girlfriend?" He decided to get straight to the point, and it was no use beating around the bush.

George blushed, seeming to jump at the question. He rubbed the back of his neck. "That's a bit random, ha" he stuttered, looking at the wall. "Where did that come from?"

'Just from my stupid heart possibly being undeniably in love with you, and craving the possibility of you feeling the same way but also at the same time, needing you to have had a girlfriend because I can't handle direct rejection' Dreams masochistic side of his brain decided to fill in.

"Just thinking" he said instead, flicking a rough piece of obsidian across the room.

"Oh. Well" George paused, trying to think of how to word it. He'd never had a girlfriend but he wasn't sure if he wanted to tell Dream that. On some twisted level, it could be embarrassing, and lead to more humiliating questions from the blond, on another level, it could expose him further than he'd like to be. 'Fuck it' he thought, 'He was gonna find out soon enough'

"Yeah, erm about that" he started, not trusting himself to look at the golden eyes piercing through him intently "Well..the short answer is no"

There was a beat.

"But" he continued, before he could back out and before Dream could say anything "There's sort of a reason for that"

Dream cocked his head in a "go on then" kind of motion and leant forward attentively.

"So..you know Karl?"

Dream's heart dropped. He prayed to every deity he could think of that George wasn't about to say he'd been dating someone; and Karl of all people. That would be so confusing, he swore both Alex and SapNap had had a thing for him for ages.

"Remember what he told us a while ago?" George continued, fiddling with his fingers. "About..asexuality?"

Dream nodded, remembering the conversation from a while back when Karl had explained to them what being ace even meant.

"I was talking to him about it; about a kind of hurdle I have. Like..I don't think I could ever er..y'know with someone unless I've known them a while, you know?" George dared to glance at Dreams eyes, which were widened a little. "And I figured it out er- its called being demisexual"

Dream nodded. "Makes sense"

George let out a sigh of relief. He knew Dream wouldn't take it badly but he knew it could be weird for some people to try and understand. Then he thought about what Dream had said. "Makes sense?" He gave a side smile and quirked an eyebrow. "How do you mean?"

"Come on, George" Dream said laughing a bit. "You've always been so..shy and blushy when us and the guys have talked about anything remotely sexual, it all tracks." He scooted closer to George a bit. "It's fine, Georgie, it was either you were somewhere on the ace spectrum like Karl or you well..I don't know were just shy talking about sex, I-" He cut himself off, feeling himself begin to blush. God what a hypocrite. To be fair to himself, he was able to talk about sex comfortably so it didn't show as much that he'd barely had any experience either. But George was one to blush at any slightly suggestive comment despite sometimes making them himself.

At his words, George blushed. He played through them in his head. "On the ace spectrum or shy about sex" Dreams slightly clumsy use of language was enough to make him flush, and the blond noticed.

"...or both?" He continued, voice dropping as he looked at George carefully. "How long?"

George's head shot up and he furrowed his eyebrows in question.

"Sorry" Dream rubbed his arm "I meant...how long...do you have to know someone to..to consider 'y'knowing', with them?"

"Oh" George said in a small voice. "In some ways it doesn't matter how long I've known them? I don't know,...I guess for me it matters how long I've been attracted to them, you know? I guess it's differ don't for everyone but for me it's more like how long I've thought of them as something more than platonic"

Dream's heart sunk once more. He'd gotten his hopes up minutely, teasing himself with the possibility that maybe George had known him for long enough, so maybe have at least thought about it. At least once. But there was no way George could feel the same way. He didn't want to pry too much and ask if his demisexuality meant he was still only ever attracted to girls or..or if it maybe meant guys? Or maybe even both?

"What about you?" George tried to turn the attention off of himself. "Have you ever had a girlfriend?"

It caught Dream off guard to be honest, and he hadn't been able to think out an answer. "Oh. No, not really, no" He decided to be blunt about it.

"Oh" George sounded surprised, shocked even. "Huh"

"What?" Dream asked self-consciously, suddenly afraid this small confession was the equivalent of screaming "I've never had a boyfriend, either!!" From the very top of the giant hotel George had said Tommy was building.

"No, no sorry that sounded rude..no, wait I....I just meant....I mean" George floundered, trying to think of what to say. "Its just a bit..surprising? Not..not in a bad way!! Just I mean..well" He was really struggling now, and he needed to try and find something to say instead of "I mean, just look at you! Of course I'm surprised you've never had a girlfriend!"

"What??" Dream nearly yelled, mouth open in some sort of shock.

Oh fucking fuckity fuck fuck fuck. He'd said that out loud.

"What?" Dream repeated a bit quieter, slowly feeling himself dissolve into laughter at George's stuttered blurt.

"You know what I mean" George muttered embarrassedly, looking back down at his abandoned doodle. Skeppy was looking more like a cartoon deer. Honestly, not too different that real life.

"Not sure I do" Dream said, feeling more like himself in a long time. "Care to enlighten me?"

George glared at him and tucked his knees up "stop teasing me"

"I'm not! Just curious, George" Dream laughed "okay, I didn't mean to say 'curious George' but you get my point"

George looked at him oddly. "What in the name of all that's holy is 'Curious George'?"

"Stop changing the subject!"

"I'm not trying to!" George said defensively, throwing his arms in the air.

"It's just..why are you shocked?" Dream said quieter now. If anything, he was glad he could talk to someone, to anyone at all. These stupid conversations and this time with George were all that was distracting him from everything he'd done; all that was stopping him from losing it.

"Just..Dream" George rubbed a hand over his eyes tiredly. "You know what you look like just..I'm just surprised nobody's ever gone for you, y'know?"

Dream didn't know what to say. It wasn't the fact nobody had gone for him just..he'd never had a proper relationship before.

"People have gone for me before. Girls have" He hurriedly corrected, trying to prove something. "Just never had a girlfriend"

'Oh' George thought. 'So nearly opposite to me'

"People have gone for you? So you've......" He paused. "Okay no-no, never mind" He cut himself off, running a hand through his dark hair and trying to avoid Dream's gaze. He didn't mean to ask that.

"Huh?" Dream looked puzzled, and searched George's face for answers. "I've what? I've..oh" He blushed slightly, pink staining his cheeks.

Dream looked away. He found himself glancing at the clock, and saw that Sam would tell George he'd have to leave soon. He was determined to ask him about if before he went.

Thinking back to George's question, and deciding to disturb the awkward silence that had followed it he said. "Yeah" quietly, and feeling George's head snap up followed it with a "Not..not all the way" Which was true enough, it'd been quick handjobs and stuff like that- he'd never..actually..

"Huh." George said, rolling the though around in his head to test it. "What's..what's it like?"

"Wha-"

'Mr Not found, you have come to the end of your allocated visiting time to the prisoner, please begin to vacate the cell' The tinny voice sounded from the intercom, cutting Dream off and savings George the embarrassment of having to explain to Dream why he wanted to know what...it..was like.

George jumped up immediately, much to Dream's dismay. He'd tried to delay it a few times; stalling or something but that obviously wasn't the case today.

"Bye" Dream said glumly, standing up and rubbing the side of his arm.

"Yeah, bye" George said, and hesitated before pulling Dream into a hug. As usual, he leant into it, pulling George in tighter as if he was trying to make himself so small, he could fit into George's pocket and be taken out of the lonely cell for good. George pulled away a little reluctantly. "I'll...I'll see you later"

Dream nodded and sat back down against the wall.

With that, George left once more and Dream was left there, sat in the cold dark cell, alone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I don't know, George, Sam wouldn't be too happy with that" Said Bad as him and George were walking towards the prison from the city. "And I've only just got the job! I don't want to ask for something like this straight away!"

"Please, Bad?" George almost begged, pulling on his arm to get him to stop. "Please? At least try? I just..I just need to know he's okay all the time; even when I'm usually not there, y'know?"

Bad nodded sympathetically. "Look, Gogy, I know you miss him but..he...but....yeah, fine" He sighed. "I'll see what I can do"

George grinned widely "Yes! Thanks so much, Bad! I owe you one!"

"Yeah" He rolled his eyes, "you really do."

Later that day, after Sam had delivered him his food, Dream was waiting in his cell for George. He was late.

'He's coming, isn't he?' An anxious thought asked. 'Maybe he's forgotten' an optimistic voice answered. 'or maybe, he's just sick of you' a scathing voice ended, making Dream flinch.

Suddenly, he heard the loud clicking of the lava falling; uncovering his entrance. He waited eagerly to see George...and he did. But..he didn't look like George.

When visitors entered the prison, they'd be stripped of their armour and possessions to prevent anything form the outside world getting to Dream but...but...George was wearing a full set of armour. Netherite armour, to be exact. Full netherite armour. Like what Sam and Bad wore. What prison guards wore.

As George stepped into the cell, Dream saw a flash of a netherite sword too, blade sharp and shining with enchantments. He looked up, meeting George's eyes. All George saw was a look of defeat, betrayal, disbelief.

"You've joined them" Dream whispered, stepping away from him. "You-you've joined them, you're just like the rest, you-you believe I deserve this you...you pig!" He nearly shouted, backing up against the wall.

"No, wait, Dream, it's not..it's not like tha-"

"Save it!" Dream fully shouted now, pushing himself away from the wall with force. "It happened with Bad..he-he said it'd be much better after he became a guard, that he'd come down to talk to me to..to spend time with me but...but he's been once! In the nearly full week he's worked here! And now it's gonna happen with you, too" His voice cracked at last part, and his eyes were dull with sadness and heartache instead of the heat and anger of before.

"No, Dream" George said, putting his hands up. "Dream, I became a prison guard here. It was to-to be here. To know you're okay, all the time, that you're safe. I can and will spend nearly all my time with you now, if Sam doesn't have any duties for me to do around this place." George stepped forward, staring up at Dream defiantly. "That's a promise"

"How can I believe you?" Dream whispered, wanting to move away from George yet also being drawn to him.

George immediately emptied his pockets, his sword, bow, tools, food, everything going on the floor with a clatter. He also began to shuck off his armour and Dream felt it only appropriate to look away, even though he was till wearing his signature blue shirt and jeans underneath.

"Oh, and here-" George pulled out a compass. He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. "Well..yeah, Ghostbur made this for me, for us really. It points in my direction at all times; so...so I thought you could have it then..you'll know I won't leave you"

With shaky hands, Dream took the compass. He knew that even guards weren't allowed to bring things in to him so George had taken a real risk with this.

"And, and I have one too" George continued, showing it to him. Both were labelled 'your Dream' and 'your George' respectively. "And this one points me to you."

It would permanently be in the same direction, then.

"George I-" He cut himself off before he said something stupid. "Thank you"

George smiled. "We're okay, then?"

"Yeah" Dream nodded, fighting to hide his grin with no luck "we're okay"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dream yawned and pummelled his head into George's shoulder.

"Dream, you need to sleep, I can't stay here all night" George said, nudging the boy in the ribs.

They were sat on the floor against the wall of the cell, and George was able to find an old guard's uniform to fold under them to make it more comfortable.

"And Sam might get suspicious" He continued, moving to pull away. "I don't know how long he's gonna buy the excuse that I always seem to have duties on the other sides of the prison from him and Bad"

"Nu-uh, stay" Dream mumbled, trying to pull George closer.

He let out a sigh, heart thawing at how cute Dream was being. "Maybe for a bit longer, but seriously, you need to sleep"

"Mmph, fine" Dream groaned, stretching up. "Come with me?" He laughed at George's stuttering expression. "At least give me a leg up? I don't fancy walking into lava right now"

George nodded and got up, ignoring the blush as he helped lift Dream onto the platform, leaving his hands resting on the stone.

"Wait, what abou- hey!" George started, his speech being cut off once Dream yanked his arms up, forcing him to jump and land on the platform on his ass

"Rude" He mumbled, stopping to stand up in the dark room and sitting on the edge of Dream's bed.

Dream yawned and sat next to him, resting his head back in it's spot on George's shoulder.

"Nope, come on" And George pushed him back onto the bed, throwing the blanket over him too. Standing up to leave, George made to jump in to the water at the bottom of the cell.

"Stay" Dream whispered, holding out a hand into the darkness. "Please?" It was a gentle request, vulnerable even.

George walked back over to Dream's bed and sat down at about where his knees were, before Dream tugged him down so his head was on the pillow and Dreams front was pressed to his back. "Sleep" He muttered into his brown hair, and George felt blond locks tickle the back of his neck.

George knew he should leave, but Dream was so warm, and he didn't want to pass up the opportunity to be able to hug and be near him so much. So, George pressed down further into the pillow, hand resting over Dreams on his waist, eyes shutting softly.

They fell asleep like that, content.

Until Dream woke up to an empty bed.


End file.
